Tag: dating

It seems that, for whatever reason, you and I keep finding one another; it’s happened at least 4 times in the last year. I am beginning to think that I have somehow stumbled on a secret pheromone that only you can smell, or something. Perhaps it’s that I’ve been single for so, so long. Despite what you may think, though, I am not desperate. It’d be nice if it was someone else’s turn to take out the trash every once in awhile, but fortunately I’m in a financial position that I can pay a housecleaner, and she does it once every other week.

Regardless of how you keep landing on my doorstep, I think that you need to know something. Though I’m not desperate, I am also not not looking for a relationship. If that double negative has confused you, allow me to clarify, I’m not the one for you. I don’t want to continuously reside in the somewhere in-between, kinda, sorta, halfway, partly girlfriend space. It’s not particularly fun for me. Which doesn’t mean that I will expect you to make a commitment to me right off the bat, but if you know at the beginning that you’re not down, well then I offer the following suggestions to avoid any awkward situations. Continue reading “An Open Letter to the Guy Not Looking for a Relationship”

So, here’s the thing – it’s come to my attention that I could probably benefit for being a bit more selective about who I go out with. In fact, I’ve been flat out, point blank told that I’ve been dating morons who are well beneath me. In an effort to help myself choose more wisely, I’m compiling a list of standards, a list of real or hypothetical situations and characteristics which would eliminate fellas from my dating pool. Some of this shit may seem pretty obvious, but I’m just trying to be, um, comprehensive. It’s kind of like a true or false test to determine a dude’s value as a potential date. There is no curve, and this test is pass-fail. This is 100% of your grade. I reserve the right to add more questions as I see fit at any time.

And so, I present, the test! I will not date you if:

You are so drunk while you are hitting on me that you don’t notice that you’re dribbling or drooling beer down your chin and onto your chest.

You do not have some sort of occupation (doesn’t necessarily have to be a 9-5 type job or even a job – you could be a student, for example).

Your pick up line is “I have a really good job”.

You live with your parents.

You introduce me to a group of your friends as ‘my girlfriend’, but later claim to have nothing but platonic feelings for me.

You ignore me.

You don’t listen to me.

You have a hobby that you insist that I adopt as a condition of our dating.

I mean, I still have a profile up on a dating site, but since it’s not really breaking my heart to be single, I’m not fully invested in the whole process, am sort of half doing it to be doing something, and it’s not going so well. More than anything there have just been a lot of awkward exchanges, and some red flags a’waving. But I digress . . .

I’ve met a couple of people here and there that I’ve been hanging out with. It’s all very much just about as serious as Sponge Bob, at this point. Yep, “still” (grr) single. Still crazy.

So, last night I was hanging out with a guy friend, and the topic of threesomes came up. I said that I wasn’t interested in having a threesome with a guy and another girl. This lead him to say that he didn’t think that he and I could ever be compatible, because I’m too closed minded, since I wouldn’t consider a threesome. I’m not closed minded. I’m straight.

(It should be noted that I had not been considering having sex with him, so this is kind of a moot point.)

It reminded me of an exchange I had with another fella some time back. I was trying to encourage him to stop with the endless flirting, and, you know, actually take me Out, instead of just talking about it. Well, he had suddenly changed his tune, and let me know that now he had decided to only take out “ladies who like other ladies.”

What exactly am I supposed to do with this? I guess whatever floats your boat, but what about actually floats my boat? I also just don’t understand why this would be such a shock to anyone. I mean, why would anyone assume that I would be into women when I’m so obviously into men, and haven’t shown any signs of being into women. I guess it’s wrong to assume anything about anyone’s preference, but it’s equally wrong to assume that I can just turn gay all of a sudden.

It’s a huge double standard. These same guys, they would never dream of having a threesome with me and another guy. It would never even occur to them, and there’s not a lot of precedent for it in media, either. While there are so many examples in pop culture of the portrayal that women’s sexuality is fluid, men’s is in most cases portrayed to be rigid. For women, there are a gajillion porns, Girls Gone Wild, Katy Perry’s I Kissed a Girl, etc, where at any moment a woman who identifies as being straight could become attracted to other women. Because it’s not enough that we face pressure to be beautiful, youthful, smart, and malleable in a hundred other ways, now we have to be bisexual, too. Or at least be willing to have sex with someone we’re not the least bit attracted to in order to be attractive to the ones we are.

Pardon my French, but FUCK THAT SEXIST SHIT!

Message to the dudes of the world . . . .I can’t help it if I’m hetero. Oh darn! I actually am attracted to humans that have body shapes and appearances similar to yours. What a bloody tragedy. And this idea that I should have sex with someone I didn’t want just to prove something to you or that it means that I am closed, narrow, or small minded is fucking insulting.

I’m straight. Get used to it.

Just sayin’.

And a side note to any bisexual women and/or women who do want to have threesomes with another woman, go get your get, and I just want to be clear that I got no problem with you. In other words, I ain’t mad atcha.

You know how there’s that party game, where you have to try to try to figure out who should play you in a movie?

Well, apparently they already made the story of my life into a movie, and I’m played by Dane Cook. (You’re probably a little confused, but don’t worry, it’ll make sense in a minute.)

The other morning, I was on Instant Messager with Kayphore, as usual. Blah, blah, blah, I didn’t sleep again, blah, blah, still sick, blah. Same shit, different day, you know. And then I told her about a certain realization that I have come to lately. I am the perfect setup girl. She didn’t quite understand what I meant at first, so I explained.

You see, if you date me or even if you just sleep with me, within a year you will be madly in love . . . just, you know, not with me. At least the last three dudes I tangoed with are all, according to them, happy as freaking clams with some broad that they hooked up with within a year of dumping me. One of them even had a baby with his new lady. And there’s a chance that some guy that I only ever got to look at may be currently heading in the same direction, but it’s a little too early to tell in his case. So, dating me sets you up to fall in love with someone else. How convenient!

Anywho, I was relaying all of this to Kayphore, and she says that it sounds like a crappy movie that she didn’t see. I responded that it did sound like the kind of thing that could be turned into some kind of banal romantic comedy, and she replied that it was really already an actual movie. A couple of minutes later, after what I assume was some sort of scouring of the inernet, she came up with it.

Every time unlucky-in-love Chuck (Dane Cook) breaks up with a girlfriend, that girl ends up engaged to her next boyfriend. Women are soon knocking on Chuck’s door, hoping that after enduring a few dates with him, they’ll meet Mr. Right, a gamble that works out better for the ladies than it does for Chuck. But when he meets klutzy penguin trainer Cam (Jessica Alba), Chuck realizes that he has to stop being a way station on the path to love.

So, of course it’s in my queue now. And it’s probably going to be horribly bad. But it’s like an opportunity to watch yourself in a train wreck.

I guess the question is, who’s better looking . . . Dane Cook or Moi?

– Or –

And if you want to be madly in love sometime in the next year, you know, call me . . .

So, I’ve been a single girl living this Crazy Single Girl Life for almost a year now. That’s a year of going where I want to go, doing what I want to do, out all night, caffeinating all day, seat of my pants, why the hell did I do that, because I could that’s why existence. I have to say, there’s been a bump or two along the way. However, it has been an adventure and definitely the ride of a lifetime. I can’t really complain.

Except one thing. There’s this skill that hasn’t really come back to me yet, after the two and a half years of Serious Relationship Existence, I somehow forgot how to flirt.

OK, so I’m not completely incapable or anything. It’s just that I’m so well out of practice that I’m just not very good at it. It’s like I’m in Junior High again.

Half the time, no one knows I’m flirting. My best friends see me interacting with attractive men, and afterward, I’ll ask, “was I being totally obnoxious and obvious.” They then ask me what I’m talking about, tell me that the thought that I was flirting didn’t even occur to them, and that they’re sure the guy didn’t get it. And I think they’re probably right.

The other half the time, it’s awkwardness to the nth degree. I kiss a guy on his cheek and Run. (Oh Yeah. I did that. Recently.) Or I’m just incapable of completing a sentence while turning Bright Crimson and swallowing half of my words.

And the thing is, I used to be pretty damn good at this. I’m not kidding. And I was so good, and so natural, that I didn’t even know I was doing it. I remember there was one time I was with Mama Bear and we were at a restaurant. A very nice looking server was waiting on us. As soon as he took our order and walked away, she turned to me and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen someone bat their eyelashes before!” I didn’t even know I was doing it.

Today, I’d have to put serious effort into that, and I’d probably be such a spazz about it, that someone would ask me if I had something stuck in my eye or if I was having a stroke!

I had no idea that this was a skill that could be lost, that this muscle would atrophy.

So, of course I’m not going to be unsingle any time soon, because people either don’t realize that I’m hitting on them or I’m scaring the crap out of them by acting weird. However, when and if the day ever comes when I find myself in a LTR (Long Term Relationship) again, I refuse to cease flirting. I will not let myself go again. Oh no. I will be a lean, mean, flirting machine. And, in other words, the worst GF ever.

In the meantime, all the practice is fun, if not amusing in a sad and pathetic sort of way.

It seems that since I’m single, people (friends, acquaintances, family members, etc.) think that my personal life is fair territory, and I’ve found myself on the receiving end of some very odd questions, statements, advice. Lemme just save us both some time and go over some fine points for you.

If I don’t bring it up, you don’t bring it up. If I don’t tell you that I’m seeing someone, going on a date, met somebody, etc., then the topic is off limits. If you have to ask, you’re prying. Period. End of discussion. Don’t get all indignant and pissy with me when I point it out to you, either.

If I respond to your prying question with some sort of cagey answer, you should drop it. This is my way of subtly saying that I don’t really have a desire to share. If you don’t pick up on the hint, don’t get all indignant when I go the blunt route and point out that you’re prying.

Until such time as I tell you that I’m not single anymore, you can go ahead and assume that I still am. What kind of fucked up question is, “Are you still single?” This will be responded to with either the afore mentioned cagey answer and/or the blunt pointing out of how rude you are and/or sarcasm. Are you still not minding your own damn business?

Don’t you dare judge me for behaving like a single person. If, as a result of your prying or because I have actually decided to confide in you on my own, I allude to or flat out state that I may or may not be going on dates with one or more person, don’t get all flushed by the plural. Just ’cause I went out with John on Sunday, and Dick on Tuesday, that does not make me some kind of tramp. And did it ever occur to you that I’m making it all up just to throw you off?

What’s up with So-And-So? As far as I’m concerned, the only appropriate answer to this question is: I don’t know. What is up with So-and-So? I’m sure you’ve heard some bit of gossip about me and So-And-So, and I’m also fairly sure that it’s all poppycock. Until you hear it from me directly, you should also assume it’s poppycock. Asking about it is prying. See above.

So, in summation, there’s nothing going on, and even if there is something going on, I’m not talking about it, so you don’t need to know, and at such time that it becomes pertinent for you to know what’s happening with my personal life, I will be sure to fill you in, and until I do that, it’s NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.

Oh, and the more you pry, the less likely I am to be comfortable sharing with you. Gaining trust takes patience. No patience = no juicy details.